


His Gift

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Lemon, M/M, Psychological Horror, Romance, Yaoi, by FancyFigures, metaphysical angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by FancyFigures--Duo arrives somewhere, not knowing how or why he's there. Someone's waiting for him, to tell him - whether he wants to know or not. To show him the claustrophobic power of love and desire.





	His Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I was lying on harsh scrubland, totally exposed to the dark, storm-filled skies, and the increasingly high wind. There were trees beind me, I could see them out of the corner of my half-closed eyes, but that was quite a distance away. There were only low bushes here, dark grey mud and scree underneath me.   
  
I was aware that I hurt. I seemed to be half in a ditch, which wasn't helping any.   
  
With difficulty, I struggled to my feet. I realised that I was drenched by the rain, my clothes were torn in several places and there was a fierce pain in my side that protested every time I moved. When I looked around, I could see a deep ridge in the soft mud, running down into the ditch - as if I'd dragged my body there in the first place. The rain was beating fiercely at it now - the traces would soon be obliterated.   
  
I had no idea where I was, or what had happened. I struggled to remember my own name, to be honest, but it came at last. Duo... Duo Maxwell. So I could remember who I was, could feel familiar feelings returning; but nothing else.   
  
I tried to focus properly, but it took a while. I heard noises - then realised it was only the rain on the bushes, and the stones creaking in the ditch. And my own harsh, laboured panting. The whole area was deserted. I knew that I had to get under cover somewhere, and examine where I was hurt - how badly I was hurt. Then I could think some more about how the hell I got where I was in the first place.   
  
Across the bleak field was the copse of trees that I'd glimpsed - and the promise of a proper, man-made road. That should mean civilisation - houses, transport, and telephones. I couldn't see through the trees, but they reached for quite a way. It was likely that there'd be a town, or at least a small community there. Someone who would help.   
  
I put a foot forward and winced as the pain shot up through me. I shuffled the other foot, and gradually I built up a rolling gait that got me going.   
  
I started walking.   
  
*   
  
It was a road, all right, though built with shallow cobbles, rather than tarmac. I guessed it must be some kind of a farming community, out here away from anything else. The grass on either side was high now, and lush - a stark contrast to the barren scrub that I'd woken up on. The trees were thick with their leaves, and rich with deep shades of nature's green. Even the rain seemed to have eased off, though the wind still whipped at my limbs. I could see the hint of a path through the trees, away from the road; there were the remains of a barn set to one side, though the roof had gone long ago, so there was no shelter for me there.   
  
And then I rounded the corner and saw the house.   
  
No farmhouse, that! I thought, in some amazement. I was light-headed from the pain and the effort, and the confusion. I thought I may have been hallucinating. But even after blinking several times, the structure was still there.   
  
It was dark-stone built, and there were narrow pillars at either side of the door. It stretched up for several storeys. The windows were small, the door high and thick. It was shrouded in shadow from the trees, and every stone of its wall seemed to hurl protest at the encroaching weather. It had probably also been deserted - it was an astonishingly formal, incongruous building to find here in this wayward copse. I looked around, for the trees were thinning out here, but I couldn't see anything else in sight. This was my only chance for rest and some kind of recovery, while I worked out what to do.   
  
I encouraged my exhausted feet a few more steps, and reached the door. I leant on it, almost half-heartedly. It'll be locked, I thought. I don't know if I'm up to breaking in, however much of an emergency this is...   
  
And the door - heavy, wooden, strapped with metal studs - swung ajar.   
  
  
*   
  
I stood there for at least a minute, movement suspended. I needed to lie down. I needed a lot of help.   
  
But somehow I didn't want to go in.   
  
For God's sake, I chided myself, what's up with you? This is an abandoned house, not some damn horror movie! You need heat, and blankets, and access to a phone... and you ain't gonna get them out here! Anyway, I'd never believed in spooks and vampires and whatever. All those stupid kids, in those stupid movies, screaming at a scrape on a windowpane! But I felt cold and suddenly fearful, and I couldn't blame it all on my soaking, chilled body. All it takes, I mused, is for a guy with a hunch to appear, and some wacky types in Transylvanian transvestite gear to dance past -   
  
And then there was movement behind the door, in the darkened lobby. A soft whispering from the thin film of dust on the steps.   
  
I jumped. Tried to calm myself. I was in no state to run away.   
  
"I - is anyone there? Can I come in -?" Was it just a wild animal? Then I realised I'd seen none of them during my long, miserable walk. No rabbits, no birds. The rain had obviously scared everything into taking cover.   
  
The movement became a shadow, and the shadow took a familiar form. It was a person. Still too far back in the dark to identify. Duo, I told myself, ignoring a thudding heart: a person means food and warmth and clean clothes and communications -   
  
"Enter."   
  
Did it speak? The sound was soft, though low and strong enough. It sounded like a man. Young. I peered into the hallway. "Have you got a phone? I - think I need help -"   
  
I took the first step through the door, and in that instant it all got the better of me. The cold and the wet and the pain - I retched suddenly, and the ground under me started to slip away. There was a sound in my head like metal tearing; a terrible shrieking; and a wrench to my side like someone had slipped in a thin sword and sliced upwards with all their strength. My eyes couldn't focus in the dim light - my eyes hurt, Goddammit, and so did everything else, and my head rocketed with shards of vicious pain and explosions of red light...   
  
"Yes..." came soft syllables, echoing around my shattered mind. "Enter..."   
  
I passed out, there on the threshold.   
  
  
*   
  
I know I must have passed out because I woke again. Sounds simple enough, doesn't it?   
  
I was laid on a couch of some sort, and I had to assume I'd been carried or dragged there by the mystery guy. At least I was indoors now. I still lay in my torn clothes, but I was drying out slowly, and, surprisingly, I didn't feel cold any more, though I couldn't see any method of heat in the room. I sat up, gingerly. The pain was still hammering through my head, but it was a dull background now. My legs felt OK, my side ached, but it was bearable. I considered whether I was hungry, but there didn't seem to be any urgency. I had a raging thirst, though.   
  
I looked around the room, and was surprised to find it furnished, and comfortably so. It had a high, impressive ceiling, with sculpted roses around the central light. The walls were papered with something dark and - inevitably - expensive. The thick, full-length drapes at the windows were caught back with cord; for furniture, there was a dining table against the wall, with a single upholstered chair at each end. There was also the couch that I lay on, and an armchair by an open fireplace. But no sign of a fire having been lit, and no evidence of central heating radiators. I wondered how it was kept so warm.   
  
And then he was there.   
  
I must still have been groggy, because I was sure I'd been alone, and I certainly never heard him come in.   
  
I know that people say their heart sank - I always thought it an exaggeration. But that's how it felt then. A huge, lurching drop in my gut - sweat springing up on my skin like dew. I felt him before I actually saw the form of a man beside me. And so did my inner fear, sending trails out along my nerves, quietly whimpering a warning.   
  
Shock, I said to myself. You're in shock. And guys creeping up on you don't help. I glared up at him, mustering my attack.   
  
"You scared me!"   
  
He was young, as I'd thought. Young and, quite possibly, the most beautiful man I'd ever seen outside of magazine shoots. So beautiful that it took my angry, blustering breath away. He stood as tall as I am, though slimmer, and his shoulders were not so broad. But he held himself well, and confidently, and from the way his hands hung carefully at his sides, I got an impression of strength and excellent physical control. And his face - well, I stared, there's no other word for it! I can only blame my rudeness on the extraordinary circumstances. His skin was darker than mine, with a slight Mediterranean or Asian cast to it. It was flawless. His profile was smooth and I guess what they'd call patrician - his mouth was wide, formed by full, dark red lips. His hair was almost black, and curled slightly in to his neck. Locks of it fell casually on to his broad forehead. And the eyes... they were bright, deep blue, and large. Very large. I stared into them, seeing sparks in the irises that reflected back to me, and I shivered.   
  
The man was - in popular speech - sex on legs! I would have laughed at that phrase, if I'd heard it aloud, because I always thought it trite and demeaning. But I faced its personification now, and understood its power. This man wasn't demeaned in any way by such an aura - he revelled in it. It was him.   
  
"There's no need for fear," he replied. The voice was calm, and it was deep. There was some amusement rippling under it. There was also arrogance. I thought him a similar age to myself - I felt an immediate antagonism, underlying my nervousness.   
  
But I remembered that he'd helped me. I drew a deep breath.   
  
"I'm sorry. I - I'm just a bit confused. I - thanks for your help, I just need to get in touch with someone to come collect me, take me back..." Back where? I thought. Where had I come from - where was I headed?   
  
"You're here now, and you will understand it all soon. There's no need for confusion."   
  
"Where am I?" I asked. "Where is this place?"   
  
"You're with me," he said, and for the first time, he smiled. It was slow, and it was sensual, and it lit up his handsome face. I was riveted to his eyes - and I felt the very muscles of my fingers strain to touch the lips that curved upwards in front of me. I was astounded by the strength of my own reaction - I huddled back into the couch, shaking off the tremors. What was happening to me?   
  
"Take a drink," he said, and waved a hand to a jug and glass on the side table. Why the hell should I be afraid of food and drink? I thought. But I was.   
  
"It's water," he said. He was gazing at me, with obvious traces of his previous amusement. "Nothing stronger. You need it. Drink."   
  
I did. There was something about the tone of his voice. He was young, yet he was in charge. The words were common enough, but they conveyed his orders. I couldn't understand the subtle weakness I felt in my body every time he spoke. I filled a glass with water and I drank. And then another.   
  
"Where am I?" I whispered again, as soon as my throat felt refreshed.   
  
He repeated, "You're with me." His whole tone was as if there were no further explanations needed. "You have been delayed, but now you've come. You are my gift - I asked for you."   
  
"Your gift?" I stuttered. What did he mean? "Asked for me?"   
  
"Come to your room," he said, dismissing my garbled questions. "You should sleep now." He moved a little, coming nearer to me, and held out his hand. It wasn't a friendly gesture, or a helping hand being offered - I recognised it as a command. And I obeyed, instinctively. I stood, and I placed a shaking hand in his, and I tried desperately to ignore the warm thrill that shot through me as I touched his cool palm. He folded his hand around mine, and it was like a trap closing.   
  
"No, wait - I oughtta call someone - you - you have a phone -?"   
  
"Who will you call?"   
  
I hesitated, not really sure, of course. It was enough of an advantage for him, and he began to tug me towards the door.   
  
"Follow me. It's ready for you."   
  
*   
  
Such strange speech, I thought, as I stumbled after him, up wide, carpeted stairs. Very old-fashioned. A bit like his clothes - he wore a loose-fitting shirt that must have been of a kind of silk, with a couple of buttons to the neck. Long, flowing sleeves. Caught in at his waist with a wide leather belt. His pants were also of a soft, flexible fabric, but they were cut like riding britches, and were tucked into knee-length boots. The leather looked soft, yet well worn - looked damn expensive, I thought, becoming acutely conscious of my sodden, scraped trainers. There was a ring on his finger, with a deep red stone, and it pressed almost painfully into my own hand.   
  
He led me to a room on the first floor, along a silent, draped corridor. I fell a little way back, but never managed to break free of his grip. I watched his back as he moved - he was graceful, but not in a girlish way. He was stealthy - he was smooth. Feline. His legs were lean and he took a long stride. His butt was something else, tight and muscled inside the britches. I wondered what the hell I was doing, watching that.   
  
He opened the door, and showed me in to a luxurious room, as high ceilinged as downstairs, but furnished in velvet and brocade. With a bed the size of a small playing field. A four-poster. I began to think this was some kind of a joke. Or a wild, baroque dream...   
  
And then it was as if the room around me slipped into focus again, and now I saw that the whole damn place was out of the wrong time. The lights were lamps - no electric switches on the walls, no electrical points at the skirting board. The furniture was heavy and ornate; there was another fireplace here, and obviously a working one, recently stocked with wood. There was a porcelain bowl of water on the side bureau, and I knew it was for washing. Christ, I thought, there was gonna be a chamber pot under the bed if I dared to look...   
  
"Clothes... my clothes are wrecked..." I didn't really know what I was saying. The fear was back. I didn't want to stay here, but I couldn't remember what I could do about it.   
  
His face moved slowly in front of mine, inches away. I imagined I could feel the heat of his body against mine, and it was crawling over my battered body, binding us together. How ridiculous!   
  
"You don't need clothes..." he murmured. The smile was back on his lips - the plump, arrogant lips. I couldn't tell if they were sneering or sympathetic. "Sleep now."   
  
And he'd gone, just as strangely as he arrived.   
  
*   
  
He came back, in the night. I woke suddenly, and I was aware of him, standing at the side of the bed, watching me. He was a different shade of shadow in the dark, backlit only by a sliver of moonlight from beyond the curtains.   
  
"What - are you doing in my room?" I gasped. Stupid thing to say - when there were so many other things crowding my sore head -   
  
"It's my room as well," he replied, his voice disembodied in the darkness, only the teeth of his smile to be seen, shining. "You're my gift, so I keep you in my room."   
  
Shit, had he been sleeping here as well? I stretched out a hand, wondering if I could feel the evidence of another body beside me - and the bedding was warm. I realised that I was nude - I could feel the cool linen sheets against my skin. All of it.   
  
Oh shit, what was going on here? I felt thickheaded, as if I'd been drugged, but I'd taken nothing but water. What had happened to me? Had I been on my way here, in the first place? How come he seemed to know me, to expect me... and what was this thing with the bedroom? He undressed you, came the thought. Undressed you, and lay beside you in this huge bed...   
  
I need answers! I thought, with a flash of spirit that I dragged up from somewhere in my bemused brain. Then I felt the heat of his gaze on me, and I lost the will.   
  
It was like he knew what I'd been thinking. "You don't need clothes. You're rested now."   
  
He leant forward, hand outstretched, and he touched soft padded fingers to my mouth. His ring glinted in the pale light. "What the hell are you doing?" I moaned.   
  
"I want you. I asked for you, and you arrived. Someone beautiful, I said - someone I can love. Just for me. Someone like you. And you're rested now, and ready for me."   
  
He knelt on the bed beside me, and I saw that he was naked as well.   
  
The world spun like a drunken top. My whole body flushed. My throat dried up and my hands clenched - only the thin sheet draped across my lower body protected my cock, which was waking up itself with a painfully fierce arousal.   
  
He was, indeed, gorgeous. I hadn't seen such a provocative sight in my life. I hadn't had the time or the enthusiasm to gaze at other young men for a long time, now; my body told me this, as well as my cracked memories. I knew I was gay, but I'd always been fairly circumspect about my sexual preferences - not everyone can cope with it being announced in their faces. I'm pretty sure my clothes and behaviour don't advertise it. Some like to think the long hair's a clue, though I keep it braided back, and there are plenty of fashions that are similarly unconnected with sexual matters. But I keep things to myself, and wait until I can see whether someone will accept it. Perhaps welcome it. I couldn't remember the last time there'd been such a welcome as this. I knew that any man in his right mind would be horny, faced with this guy.   
  
This was unreality at its height. And yet... it had echoes of familiar fantasies. I was terribly excited, despite myself.   
  
"I don't know who you are, or what the hell you think you're up to -"   
  
It was as if he hadn't heard. He placed his hands on my waist, just inside the sheet, and he pressed gently into my flesh. I winced.   
  
"You're hurt, Duo. I'll be gentle this time. It will heal soon."   
  
The touch of his fingers in the dark was as painful as my actual hurt. "How do you know my name?" Had I told him, perhaps in my sleep? I wondered where my wallet was. Had he been through it?   
  
"Open your mouth..." he whispered. "Give me your tongue..."   
  
I cried out - tried to wriggle away from him. But his hands weren't caressing me - they were pinning me to the bed. My strength was asleep somewhere else. My body was alert to every breath from him, and beginning to ache in long-neglected places. "Leave me alone! "   
  
"That's not what you want. You don't want to be left alone. You're ready for me." His words were gentle, but to me they were like snakes, slithering softly around my head, teasing and flickering their tongues within my mind. "Your body is hot, but it's empty. You need me. You want me to fill you." That damn arrogance again! He shifted his body, still gripping me. His knee pushed the sheet gently down, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.   
  
"Who the hell are you?"   
  
"Your hostility is unexpected, Duo. This is still new to you - but not for long. I'm Heero. You should know that. Now be ready for me..."   
  
"No..." I gasped, but I couldn't take my eyes from him, from his fabulous body. He was so close to me now, and my eyes were becoming accustomed to the dark, so that I could see it all. I was mesmerised. The soft, dark skin stretched across his limbs. The lithe, athletic way that he moved between my legs, the muscles rippling and stretching on his chest and shoulders. The rich, luscious organ that reared eagerly between those lean, supple legs. There was no ignoring my erection now. I could feel the heat from it, on my naked stomach. Or maybe it was from his own body, from his own arousal, shining damply in the merest light.   
  
And - oh God - I wanted it! I had never been into casual sex - I'd turned down opportunities in the past, because I genuinely could do without it. But I felt now as if I'd die if I didn't have it. Didn't have him. I was shivering with the emotion - chillingly hot with the lust. And swamped with the humiliation.   
  
I had few words left to save me.   
  
  
*   
  
"I don't know who you are, Heero - I don't know why I'm here -"   
  
"You're here for me," came his relentless reply. His lips were dipping to my chest now; my lungs quivering under the ribcage; my breath shortening fiercely at the touch of his mouth. I let out the softest of moans as he suckled on my nipple.   
  
"Heero - oh God, no \- are you alone here?"   
  
"Yes, you know that. That's why I asked for you. To be with me. For me."   
  
There was no sense. There was no logic, no reason. His fingers trailed softly against my stomach, and his mouth continued to suck, the tongue flicking at the erect tip, sending golden trails of pleasure/pain through my upper body and inexorably to my groin.   
  
"What are you doing to me?" I hissed. I slid back against the pillows. I waved a hand at his head, whether to strike him away or to drag him nearer, I had no idea. My arm felt insubstantial - ineffectual.   
  
"You speak very strangely, Duo," he sighed. "But you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I couldn't be more pleased with my gift. You must relax now."   
  
I moaned. His mouth was back up against my ear, and the hot, domineering breath was at my neck, at my cheek. "You want to relax, don't you? You want me. You want to be mine."   
  
God forgive me, I thought, but I do! I don't know this man, this strange, anachronistic man. But I'm naked in bed with him beside me, hornier than I've ever been in my life before; he intends to do God knows what, and I want it...   
  
He kissed me, then. It was inevitable, it was sweet, and it was the most indescribably deep feeling I had ever experienced. When his lips pressed against mine, I felt my whole spirit consumed. When his hot, slick tongue slid between my barely protesting lips, I felt my whole body open up to him. I know that my cock was weeping for him - I could feel the damp trails of cum on my skin, the ache as my balls swelled and tightened against my legs. I pulsed for him.   
  
I kissed back. My tongue thrust into him like we were battling, as - I think - we may have been. But the difference between us was that I wanted to lose. He tasted of things I'd never really had in my life, not for any length of time - passion; concentration; obsession. I reached for him then, and took hold of his shoulders, and twisted him down beside me.   
  
"You want me..." he sighed. He sounded pleased. His voice was low and it stroked at my nerves, hypnotising me somehow. "Hold me, Duo. Take my cock - feel me. I want you to suck me. I've been waiting for you to arrive..."   
  
"Hold me, Duo. I've been waiting for you to arrive..."   
  
I was up on my knees then, turning to face his groin, and I saw his legs stretch slightly apart, making his cock bounce eagerly on his thighs. It was magnificent. That's another thing - I'd never really gone down on anyone before. But now that was all I wanted to do - to take the thick, blood-red flesh into my aching mouth, and suck his seed out. I put my hands either side of his hips, and I plunged down on to him. Christ, I had so little control, I felt it strike the back of my throat and I gagged.   
  
"Duo, you're too fast... there's plenty of time. Take me slowly... taste me, savour me..."   
  
I eased up my movements, but the desperation was unabated. I felt the soft, wrinkled skin stretch around the swelling organ; I tasted the sharp tang of pre-cum on my tongue. Each time I ran my lips up to the tip, suckling the hard knob of its head, his hips bucked against me, and I knew I was pleasing him. He moved as if he were fucking my mouth, slowly; sensuously. Like no part of my body had ever been fucked before. I thought I might pass out here again, gently, unnoticed; still sucking on his cock. I examined the reactions in my stunned mind, and discovered that I might not have minded.   
  
But he moved then, sliding me reluctantly off him. "Turn round, Duo. I want to see your cock, begging for me. I want to touch inside of you - make you cry out with it..."   
  
I turned on shaking legs, and saw him sucking firmly on his fingers. Drawing them in and out of his mouth, saliva glimmering its trail from his lush, delectable lips. The large eyes were greedy - there was a look there of total desire, of total possession. Like he knew I would do whatever he wanted. Whatever he commanded.   
  
"Duo, lie back and open your legs. I want to see you. I want to see what's mine - what I'm going to take from you."   
  
I did just that. It was as if I watched some other man, some other time and place. But it was really me. Me, a man who dropped quickly to the sheets, spreading his legs wide and high, offering himself up to the other. I felt the shiver of lust, creeping from my balls, back to my ass. I felt it tease at my hole; encouraging a throbbing, hot blossoming. The pucker begged for a touch. I had never felt such a way before in my life.   
  
His hand stroked over my side, and - amazingly - the pain seemed much less. I tried to remember if it had been as bad when I woke up, or whether these hot caresses were just distracting me.   
  
"You're hurt, yes. But it's much better. It won't pain you when I take you."   
  
His voice was mesmerising again; it was tugging at my sluggish responses; soaking through any last vestige of resistance, of distress. "I want you to enjoy it, Duo. You will enjoy it. You've been waiting for me, too..."   
  
And Heero knelt at my feet, and his smile overpowered me, and his quick, damp fingers felt for me, up between my outstretched legs, finding the entrance with no hesitation. The flesh clenched in anticipation of him. My thighs strained to encompass him. A single fingertip teased slowly into the hole.   
  
"You're wanton, aren't you?" he whispered. "It will take very little to prepare you for me. You want me. You're mine." One by one, his fingers were sucked into me, clutched into the tight channel, and I heard his satisfied groans. He began to move them, stretching me, tenderly; firmly. His other hand cupped my balls, gently manipulating them, rolling them almost lovingly.   
  
"Please..." I whimpered.   
  
"You don't need to beg me. Though it's exciting to hear. This is what I asked for - this is what we both are here for." He moved closer between me, taking hold of my legs, and hitching them up around his hips. His cock shone with wet desire - his eyes held mine, and there was a look of such delight and triumph in them that I felt my heart stop beating entirely as I waited. Waited, with an agonising suspense and hunger for him to enter me. To take me.   
  
I think my mind was unravelling. I remember wondering about lube, and how long it had been since I'd last been fucked, and whether he'd use a condom, and whether I'd be any damn good at it, anyway - and then the warm throb of his cock touched at my hole, and those thoughts were swamped with the pure, unadulterated lust that swam in waves throughout my whole body. I stretched up so high that I thought my back would creak with its protest. To reach out to him; to draw him into me. To be his. Not that I didn't care about everything else - but I knew that only he had control of this, that nothing was to be left in my hands.   
  
He licked lips that were already sumptuously thick with our kissing - with his caressing of my body. "There's no need for concern, Duo. None of that is a concern..."   
  
What did he mean? Christ, had he read my mind? Had I cried out something?   
  
"Relax, Duo..." he whispered. His hands were sliding over his cock, massaging the soft, sweet pre-cum all over it. Then they were back at my hips, spreading me even further apart. The swollen flesh pressed at me; flexed at the entrance. "It will be very, very good."   
  
I felt the invasion like a burning spear; like a triumphant conquering. The head of his cock forced me apart, and the shaft pushed on in. It had, indeed, been a long time since I took anything like this inside me - and I knew, without a doubt, that I would never have found this sensation anywhere else but with Heero. I felt the pain, and then I relaxed and opened for him, and he sighed with the pleasure.   
  
"Will you beg now, Duo?" he groaned.   
  
I did. I reached for him, tugging his head down towards me so that I could kiss him, mimicking with my tongue the thrusting of his cock into my body. I bent my legs up high against my chest, tilting the angle so that he could slide even deeper, so that he could torment my prostate. He seemed to have an unerring instinct for it.   
  
"Christ..." I groaned. "Kiss me, Heero - fuck me -"   
  
"Strange language," he sighed, but his eyes darkened, and he forced in even further. I could feel the smooth, sweat-damp heat of his chest against mine as he slid back out a little, as if testing the sensation himself; savouring it. Then the tensing of the muscles in his thighs as he gathered his energy and thrust back in. I felt his soft balls slapping against my ass - the tickle of his pubic hairs against my own, weeping cock, as he ground close up to me. We were one together. I was out of my head - I had never had such sex before.   
  
He spoke again, as if he read my mind. "You are perfect, Duo. You're a beautiful lover. You're what I desire more than anything. We belong together, doing this..."   
  
"I - want to come -!" I gasped. The throbbing suspense in my groin was agony, but my cock was trapped between our bodies, begging for the right touch. "God, Heero - make me - let me -"   
  
"Wait, love," he murmured. I could see the individual beads of sweat on his forehead - the faint line of veins at his temple. He paused in his pumping for a second - I could feel the pulsing of his cock up inside me, and I marvelled at it. He licked at his drying lips.   
  
"I can't!" I cried.   
  
"You will," he replied, in that voice of command. He held himself up on one hand, a little away from me, and the movement called for my attention. He was panting heavily, his eyes wild with passion. My own eyes were wide open; vulnerable; scared, even. But he drew the look up into his, and he mouthed my name with his rich lips - 'Duo...' Then he reached down with his free hand and took hold of my desperate cock.   
  
"Hard -" I groaned. "Hard...! Please!"   
  
"Come for me, love. I want to see you come."   
  
"I want - to feel you -" I moaned. His hand began to move up and down my shaft, tortuously slowly. The thin band of the ring was cold against the fever of his fingers. He tugged at my tight skin; his fingers brushed over the wet tip. His body began to withdraw from me, and then he plunged back in with a grunt. He was leaning back down on to me - the fucking started again, the thrusts matching the pumping of my cock.   
  
I began to cry out - a single, keening thread of a cry, as my climax approached. I swear I could feel his fingerprints burning a brand on my flesh. He was being absorbed into me - his cock, his groin, his stomach, chest...all tight up against me, our faces contorted with the agony of concentration, of abandonment to the sensations.   
  
I fell first. Fell from the greatest height, though I was flat on my back and crushed underneath him. But it felt like a leap from the highest cliff face, and about as terrifying. There appeared to be no control - not over the tortuous rush through my body, nor the shriek that was torn from me as my whole being became concentrated in this single, pumping place. The cum burst out of me like a geyser, splattering hotly on to his hand and his groin, and falling with exhaustion back down on to my stomach.   
  
I had never come so hard and so fantastically in my life. Never known such physical satisfaction - such a feeling of utter completion.   
  
He was seconds behind me - I could feel the change in his size and shape, responding to the sudden, instinctive tightening of my ass muscles. He was quieter than I was - who wouldn't have been? - but his whole body shook with the climax. He gave soft, mewling cries of pleasure as he pumped once - then again, and again, the final, fierce burst - deep into me. His fingers gripped me, as the ecstasy drained out of him, but I felt no anger, no particular pain. It was part of the experience.   
  
I was exhausted, muscles aching and protesting, ass stinging after the painful joy of him inside me. But I felt as if every nerve ending was raw - exposed. My heart screamed, my mind whirled - my senses were sharper than ever, and everything looked and smelt keener than before.   
  
I'd never felt so alive in my life.   
  
*   
  
I lay on the bed, and it was another time. I couldn't have said what happened after Heero fucked me for the first time, because I genuinely could not remember. But I knew there had been many other times - that night; the next night; many nights after - and they had always been as exciting.   
  
I had no idea of the passage of time, or any further idea of where I was. Or who he was.   
  
I could remember occasional thoughts that I must get home - that there were things I had to discover about my journey here. But Heero's voice would call me to him, and his hands would open me for him, and my mind would fill with only that.   
  
"You say I was your gift. Gift from who?"   
  
He smiled. "I asked, and you arrived. I deserved a gift, and I chose for someone like you to come to me."   
  
I sighed. There were never any proper answers, yet I couldn't do any better with the questions. "Who did you ask? Like - Santa Claus? Like God?" My voice broke a little.   
  
He shrugged. He was between my legs, and I felt the sensual movement along my thighs. The reaction it set up in my nerves was excruciating.   
  
"I have my own God, Duo. I ask, and he grants. I can't explain anything more than that."   
  
Heero was below me, lips at my groin, lapping my balls. He wanted me again, and I was to be ready for him.   
  
"And why do you dress in that weird way -?"   
  
"They're only clothes, Duo. Yours are strange, too. But we don't need them here, do we? I want you to be naked for me, all the time - I like to watch the light of evening move across the room, reflected on your skin. I like the way your hair falls across your shoulders when you unbraid it for me. I like to see your sweat - your shivers. The way that your arm cradles your head when I suck your cock... the way that your legs clutch round me when I'm inside you. The tension in your buttocks when I take you from behind..."   
  
I was hot in a way that a volcano itself wouldn't have understood. "And you live all alone, in this weird old house -"   
  
"It's not old, Duo. My family had it built only twenty years ago."   
  
"Sue the architect!" I snapped. "This style went out with the 18th century!"   
  
"Why do you continue with this harshness, Duo? You know that you want me - you know that I can bring you the pleasure and the relaxation you want. This is the right place for you. You know it."   
  
"I don't!" I gasped. It was more like a sob. "I don't know anything -!"   
  
Heero never answered. He didn't need to, for his answer to me was the warmth of his wet, hot mouth over my cock, and his comfort to my sobs was the movement of his tongue along the underside and over the top, flickering into the slit, tasting the droplets that eked themselves out for him.   
  
I shuddered with the perfect joy of it, like he'd known my body as long as I had. And I surrendered all thought to the deepest, most uncontrollable sensations.   
  
*   
  
I think I actually cried. Sometimes, it was because he brought me a climax that was so sharp, so deep - so poignant - that I thought I wouldn't survive it. Sometimes my old pain returned, more vicious than ever - though there was no wound that I could see, and it passed quickly. And sometimes it was just from the confusion.   
  
"I don't understand, Heero. Anything about this."   
  
"You won't let yourself understand. You only have to enjoy. Come here and let me take you, Duo. On your knees... Draw your hair to the side so that I can kiss your neck. Spread your long, strong legs. I like to look at your ass as I move slowly in and out of you..."   
  
"You'll give me answers then? When you've taken me again? Will you?"   
  
His voice was muffled as he leant over my back, suckling at the thin skin of my hip. Marking me. "I'll give you what you need, Duo. What we both need. Why ask anything else?"   
  
He penetrated me, fiercely. He knew that was how I liked it, sometimes, and so did he.   
  
I gasped with it. But persisted. "What's the date, Heero?"   
  
He spoke quietly. "It's now, Duo. That's what's important for us. We're together, now."   
  
"How many days have passed, Heero?"   
  
His answer was breathy; he was deep inside me, and holding his excitement to get the maximum pleasure from me. "Since you arrived? I haven't been counting. Weeks, perhaps."   
  
Somehow I knew that. It was a shock, and yet I couldn't evaluate what it really meant. And then his warm, skilful hand slid around my stomach and grasped my aching cock, and he began to thrust in earnest. All I could feel was his skin, slick against my back with sweat and passion, his breath rasping in my ear, and his hands tightly clenched in my hair. He dragged my head back so that he could lick at my neck - nip at the angry pulse there. I closed my eyes, sinking into the rising ecstasy. He fit me by now - or I fit him. The preparation was rarely necessary.   
  
I was always ready for him.   
  
*   
  
Sometimes, he would lie beside me afterwards, stroking my chest, helping my pounding heart to settle back down to a rational level.   
  
"What's happened to me, Heero?"   
  
I could feel the muscles on his face against my shoulder, twisting into that slow, possessive smile. His body was stretched out on the crumpled bedding, his smooth, sensual hip against mine; his lean, strong arm thrown carelessly across my chest. His hair smelled of nothing I recognised, but it was a heady, musky scent, and the thick strands tickled at my neck as he moved. He was a wet dream. Mine. My flesh immediately began to creep with a craving I could barely contain. "You came to me, Duo. I love you. You're mine."   
  
"That's not what I meant..." I sighed.   
  
And then the longing overwhelmed me, and the feeling of his bare skin against mine woke my need.   
  
"When can I take you, Heero? Must I always be the passive one?"   
  
"You are never passive," he murmured. His tongue slipped out to lick at the lobe of my ear. "You are as fierce as I am, in all the lovemaking. Your mouth sucks me - your fingers slide inside me and stroke me until I plead to enter you." He knew how much I wanted him, even without seeing my aching arousal, making it uncomfortable for me to lie still. "But I don't think you can take me, love. It's not for you. Don't ask for it, for I don't want you distressed."   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
But then he was gone again, and I couldn't remember his movement away from me.   
  
*   
  
Then came the day that I asked him, "What are you?" Would I receive any clearer an answer?   
  
"I never see you eating, Heero - working. Cleaning the house. Whatever you do when you're not with me."   
  
He raised a fine eyebrow - lifted a slim finger, and ran it gently across my lips. "I do what's usual. Of course I eat, and other things. You just don't see it. I only call you when I want you."   
  
"No one visits here, Heero. Where's your family? Friends?" Other lovers? I wanted to say, but restrained my jealousy. It was irrelevant, really.   
  
"My family have all gone - I've inherited this place on my own. Friends - friends are not easy for me to come by. I have you, Duo. That's all I need. All I want."   
  
"What are you, Heero? Why am I so bound to you? This is not reality, is it?"   
  
"You're talking that nonsense again, Duo. You need me to show you what I am." He rolled me gently on to my face, ran hands under my hips to lift me up for his use. "I'm just a man, you know that. One that you want."   
  
Yes, yes, my body moaned. "No," I ground out, for I still clung to some rational thought. "You're more - or less - than that. I don't know. I don't think we're of the same time - even the same century. I can't explain it, and it's torturing me. Are you - are you a ghost?"   
  
He gave a light laugh. He was panting a little. His cool hands were spreading my cheeks, fingers probing at my entrance. Stroking the sensitive skin between there and my balls. My cock was protesting, and painfully rigid, rearing out between my wide legs. It dripped a little on to the white sheets.   
  
"I'm not a ghost, Duo. Could a ghost do this?"   
  
And he thrust hard into me.   
  
"You see?" he gasped. I was panting along with him, one hand gripping the sheets beneath me until they threatened to rip, as they sometimes did. The other hand was clenching my cock, begging for the chance to release itself underneath him. He liked me to touch myself - to bring myself off. He liked to see my hips shake, my muscles clutch around him. Then he would relax his own control and burst up into me, prolonging my own climax, keening along with me. "Do you see, Duo?"   
  
"Yes, I do - uhhh -" My voice was nothing more than a breath, jerked from me along with my cum, streaming with pure relief across my hand and the sheets, hot and thick. I felt his breath catch with pleasure as I came, and his cock swelled inside me, filling me even more than it ever did. A couple more thrusts, and I felt the change of pulse; the growing heat. He shuddered above me, and his climax followed, drenching my channel, leaving escaping trails of it sliding slowly, insidiously down my inner thighs. Leaving me irretrievably his. As always.   
  
"You are my gift, Duo. You are mine."   
  
*   
  
I still struggled against it, and yet I couldn't remember why any more. I had never been so physically satisfied and content in all my life. I needed for nothing. I craved Heero, and he was there for me, often enough. His lovemaking took me beyond contentment - it took me to an acute ecstasy.   
  
Yet still I questioned.   
  
"I must know, Heero - what happened to me."   
  
"You don't need to know," he hushed me. "You're where you belong now. It doesn't matter where you were before."   
  
Didn't I have family and friends of my own? Why couldn't I remember? Did his attention do more than excite me? It seemed to seep into my veins, to sedate me, to relax my already feeble resistance - making me perpetually welcoming of him... desperate for him.   
  
"I must go, Heero."   
  
His body stiffened above me. I was at his groin, arm thrown across his hips. I had curled at his legs, had tasted his cock until he cried out and pumped his pleasure deep into my throat. He loved that, as well.   
  
"To leave me? You can't do that."   
  
"No." I had to agree. I didn't see how it could happen.   
  
And then he sighed. "I asked for you to come, Duo. I never asked to control your going. You can go at any time. But I will call you back."   
  
What? I was stunned - suddenly aware of just myself. Just my own needs. He was offering me an escape where I'd thought there was none...   
  
"My clothes..."   
  
"In the closet, if you had looked. The shirt was torn beyond repair. I replaced it with one of mine. The rest is there."   
  
"Heero..." Everything had suddenly tilted to one side - my assumptions; my desires. What was he telling me?   
  
"If it's what you want, Duo, you must go and seek your answers."   
  
His voice came from somewhere else - he was no longer in the room. When did the door open? But I heard him as clearly as if he were still in my arms.   
  
"If it's what you want. But I will call you back."   
  
*   
  
I left the house almost at dawn. There was no sign of Heero. As I walked back across the lush parkland - tentatively; pathetically unused to the outdoors - I felt the fear returning. Like the first day I'd gone to the house. My trainers felt alien on my feet - Heero's shirt was softer than anything I'd ever worn before. I felt like I'd grown out of everything since I arrived.   
  
There were no more signs of life than before, though the weather was fine, now. No sign of the storm that had forced me here. It was almost unnaturally quiet; nothing but a slight breeze in the trees, the soft tap of my feet on the cobbles.   
  
I turned out of the copse and felt a strange nausea - I thought it was pathetic for me to look back, to see if I could still see the house. But I did. And I couldn't. All I could see was the scrubland ahead of me - the path and the roadside ditch that I'd originally followed. I struggled on. My head was hammering again - the stress, I assumed. The pain in my side was returning, though I'd had no trouble with it for so long now.   
  
I saw the stationary car from a distance, and for a wild moment I thought it might be mine, and I could drive home. But as I got closer, I saw that this one was a wreck, and barely recognisable. It was half in the ditch, the front bonnet completely crushed, and the bodywork was burned and rusting.   
  
There was a fence post nearby, and a cluster of small bouquets propped up against it. I always thought that a ridiculous thing to do, when there'd been an accident. Why remember someone at the place that they died, rather than at their home, where they lived?   
  
An accident. There'd been an accident.   
  
Did I know, even then?   
  
It was obvious now. The car nearby - the small trails of police incident tape, fluttering from the hedge. The sad little messages inside the flowers.   
  
Names, nicknames, wishing the best for the victim, in the future life. Names that I knew.   
  
A victim that I knew.   
  
I looked down behind me, and I saw that there was no longer any trail of a body hauling itself along in the ditch. I looked down at my feet, and realised that there was no trail in the slightly soft ground, not even from my footsteps today.   
  
I had left nothing behind here. Except myself.   
  
I may have cried out. I may have wept.   
  
And then I ran.   
  
*   
  
I arrived back at the house, panting hard. The delicate shirt was wet with my sweat. My trousers no longer felt comfortable. My feet hurt in the restricting shoes. I had run - fast, furiously - and got nowhere.   
  
Heero was just inside the door, waiting for me. For a moment we just stood there, staring at each other. His face was unusually grave. I couldn't see mine, of course, but I imagined the anguish and the shock there. Well, there'd be both of those, wouldn't there?   
  
"I want you, Duo," he said, softly. "I asked for you to come. And now I've called you back - you must come in."   
  
"You're not the ghost, are you?" I cried. There were tears on my cheeks, and I didn't know when I'd started crying.   
  
"No, I'm not," he replied.   
  
"I am," I whispered.   
  
I'd been so suspicious of Heero's activities - and yet now I knew I couldn't remember myself ever eating here. Dressing. Brushing my hair. Washing. None of the usual rituals and necessities of life. All the times he'd left me, vanishing with a strange and inexplicable suddenness - I hadn't understood then, but I did now. It had been me leaving him, hadn't it?   
  
"There's no need for sorrow, Duo." The deep voice had never sounded so calm, so secure. And that was what I needed, wasn't it? "I tried to keep you from it. I don't want you to be upset. Ever."   
  
"Did you - know? How?" My voice was raised, fiercely so. "Did you call me specifically, Heero? Did you bring me here by name - or was I just the lucky one to qualify as your gift?"   
  
"I don't know," he replied, and I think I believed him. Luck; fate; black magic. I didn't know, either. I was chilled, and grieving inside, and I ached all over. All I could remember was the rest and pleasure he gave me. Back inside.   
  
"If I return... how long will it last, Heero?"   
  
I didn't really know what I was asking. But he did. "You can be with me as long as I wish, Duo. And I want you forever."   
  
I took one, sorry step towards the doorway.   
  
"Enter," came his voice, just like that first time.   
  
Every inch of my mind screamed at me to run away. Every ounce of my heart wept for me. Every nerve in my body begged to hold him again.   
  
I stepped over the doorstep. I left no footprints in the dust.   
  
After all, where else did I have to go?   
  
End


End file.
